Hotel One-Eighty
by jlho
Summary: "Welcome to Hotel One-Eighty. Checking in?" (O/S)


**Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, settings or music references are owned by their respective authors or creators. No copyright infringement is intended.**

 _I_ _was running late._

I flipped my head upside down and turned on my hairdryer. It sounded like I started a jet engine and the setting on it was too high. I tried to turn it to something less than flambé, while I moved it around my frizzing, brunette waves. Just as I was getting lightheaded and remembered I was not a bat, I smelled the distinct smell of burning hair and felt pain. The dryer had started a cumbersome love affair with a couple of stands of my hair and refused to let them go.

"Son of an owl!"

Begrudgingly, I pulled the traitorous dryer away, and turned it off. "Blasted thing."

In order to teach it a lesson, I threw the dryer back in its spot on the counter. It was almost older than I was, but I kept it.

 _Waste not want not._

Firmly, I grasped a nearby clip and twisted my hair into it. It hardly kept it contained, but it was passable. My elf ears could feel the invading cold and seemed to grow more pointy. My face puckered at my reflection, but I looked alright enough. It didn't matter if my subconscious disagreed with me because I was still running late.

 _I should have that emblazoned on a jersey or engraved at one of those personalizing coffee mug places._

 _I'm Bella and I'm running late. Get the fuck out of my way._

Though, I would never say something like that. I couldn't. For as long as I could remember, I've had a strict "brain to mouth barrier" in place. Most of the things I thought ended up on the cutting room floor before they transformed into spoken words. It was simultaneously a burden and a blessing. I was protected from something ultimately stupid or off-putting coming out of my mouth, but it came with the price of never being able to say exactly what I wanted.

I quickly glanced at my watch and grimaced before running my mental morning check list.

Teeth?

 _Brushed._

Hair?

 _Somewhat managed._

Makeup?

 _Half_ _-assed applied_

Dorky, ill-fitting uniform?

 _On._

Name tag?

 _Adjusted._

The plastic tiny tag was the only trace of my identity. It had a name I didn't chose and boasted I was from a city I'd only been to a few times. I wished I was actually was from Seattle, like my dad. I was born in Forks, and that's where he left my mom and I when he couldn't take the quiet any more. I started to hear the tiniest violin begin to play in my head, when I remembered that I was still running late.

Although, I'd never been late a day. I'd always managed to clock in right on time every day. For three years, I'd been working as a hotel front desk agent. Which, if you wanted to take away the "glamorous" label, meant I was a check-in girl at Hotel One-Eighty. Aptly named, as the hotel was located at 180 West St. I was walking faster than a genetically clumsy person should when I rounded the corner and turned into my bedroom. My near automatic check list was still ticking away in the background of my overcrowded head.

Bulky, ugly ass shoes I got on sale.

 _Next to the bed._

I grabbed my shoes and awkwardly made it down the steps, and found myself belting out some Kelly. I never really could control it. I sang when I was happy and alone. It was the only time my brain didn't make a conscious effort to edit what came out of my mouth.

It was the only time I felt closer to a version of me I kinda liked.

When I made it to the bottom of the steps without slipping I was smiling and silently congratulated myself. Although, I nearly swallowed my tongue when my checklist automatically checked off a less than pleasant sight.

Jake.

 _Sitting at my dinning table._

I was stunned into further muteness, even though I shouldn't have been surprised. It was at least six months since I kicked him out, and I foolishly believed he'd actually heed my weak warning to not come back. I cleared my throat a couple of times to build up the right level of annoyance, and tried to make myself appear taller. However, I was pretty sure that was supposed to intimidate bears. Not morally depraved, socially deviant dogs. He had a mug and took a drink, appraising me. I mentally launched into a chorus of Mr. Know It All.

"What the french toast are you doing here?"

"Good morning, Ada M."

That nickname. I hated it even when we were dating. I'd gown to despise it since the most recent breakup. I was hardly mute and looked nothing like Holly Hunter. Never mind my limited pianist skills and my "mind's voice" was slightly more judgmental and aggravated.

 _That better not be my mocha, Asshat!_

"How did you get in? What are you doing here?"

"You are so predictable, Ada. The key is still in the same plastic rock." he tapped the rock on the table. "I came to see how you were. It's been a while since you threw me out over what's-her-face."

 _Who still uses those damn things? You should have keestered that key!_

"I'm fine, as you can see. Go away."

I felt flustered being near him, his eyes devouring me a little bit at a time. He was seeing how long I could keep up my resistance.

 _Fuck you! Go fuck your mother! And on your way there, I hope you get ass-tapped by every prison reject! You fuck-faced jizz-mop!_

"Ada, we always do this. I get bored, I go looking somewhere else, you catch me," he

summarized. "Then you realize no one else will touch you and you let me fuck you again until I get bored. It's a great cycle."

I frowned and turned away, trying to hide my embarrassment from his dismissive and shameful description of our ridiculous relationship. Since we were freshman in college, our cycle had repeated infinitely. Because I never could hold on to enough Pink Power Ranger power to tell him to go away indefinitely.

Susan B. Anthony would be scowling at me and tsking.

Jake interrupted the silent imagery of me burning my bra.

"So we're back to the me fucking you senseless phase. Can we get started? I have an job

interview in a couple hours."

This surprised me.

"Like a real job?"

"No. I don't have to work. Remember? Trust funds before punch cards."

As if he didn't constantly remind me. The bastard had a tech tycoon for a father and only went to college in order to get access to his funds. I on the other hand, had to bust my ass and look under my roommate's couch cushions for spare change to get my pretzel fix from Auntie Anne's when I was in college.

A lot of good it did me considering the prestigious career I managed to land myself in.

Let it never be said an English lit major is profitable, because I've got a truck-ton of student loans

which beg to differ. My liberal tendencies have sentenced me to two decades filled with cheap pizza and bare-bones health care.

"Well, I don't have a trust fund and actually have to work."

My no-no places noticed that he was somehow more ripped than the last time I broke up with him. Susan was wagging her finger at me and shaking her head in disgust.

"In fact, my whole day is booked. I have a date tonight."

Okay. It was a huge lie. I only had a date with Uncle Ben's and Orville Reddenbacher's, but he did not need to know that. I knew he was on to me before my sentence even ended. I had no flare for lying and my assertion came out as a whisper.

"Papa John's and Ben and Jerry's threesome?"

"No." I let out a huff and reached for my travel mug with the kitty on it.

His expression softened as he moved towards me.

"Let's face it, Bella. I'm doing you a favor. The nerdy girl in glasses who's hot underneath all the nerd only exists in the movies. Librarians are not sex symbols."

 _You arrogant_ _,fucktard! Don't talk to me like that! This is my goddamn house! Get the fuck out and take that fledgling finger you call a dick with you!_

He was right to some degree. I knew I wasn't the most attractive girl on the block. My crooked nose and dull brown eyes did not say, "C _ome get some, b_ _ig_ _daddy._ _"_ They mostly mumbled, _"_ _I'm not too bad if you have a few beers in you._ "

"I don't need pity sex, Jake."

He started rummaging around in my pantry. "Ugly girls need love, too. I'm doing a community service."

 _Oh pity dick this, you delusional three minute man!_

"I stand by what I said. Besides, I'm not in the mood."

He glanced at me quizzically, as if he couldn't believe what I was saying.

"You know how many women want to fuck me on any given day?"

Y _our left and right hand must bitch fight pretty well over that Vienna sausage._

 _Better YouTube that shit._

I was minutely proud of myself I was able to fluster him.

"I don't really care, Jake. Bestow your charity upon someone else. I can get some all by myself."

I wasn't entirely sure this the case, because I had only ever been with him. I had the self esteem roughly the size of a quarter. I didn't want to have it shot down to the size of a dime when I was rejected. Jake started to become aggravated by my refusal.

His hand gestured to me. "You think so, Ada? That uniform just screams 'fuck me,' and the glasses? Best seller at the nursing home two years running."

He tapped my glasses with two fingers and let out exasperated breath.

 _These are Jimmy Choo frames you uncultured, limp-dicked, nerfhearder!_

I swallowed and looked down. "I could get someone to...do me...if I really wanted to."

" _Do_ you?" he laughed. "That twelve year old way of putting things is really alluring there, Grandma."

 _Lick the left side of my nuts you greedy little ass varmint!_

I looked up from the floor momentarily, feeling slightly emboldened by the screaming voice inside my head.

"I can almost...guarantee it."

I had guys hitting on me all day at the hotel. I knew it was so they could get free stuff, but it wasn't unwelcome. Even if they weren't serious.

Maybe I could manipulate one of them into saying that we had sex.

Or at least post it on Facebook. Because then it would be official.

He took a step back. "You're gonna get laid tonight, Ada M? Is your jungle bush and cheese grater legs coming along for the ride?"

He was always pointing out my flaws and making me feel my self worth had the value of an arcade token rather than the whole quarter I desperately tried to hold on to.

 _You can bet the sweet side of your scrotum on it, Captain Syphilis!_

I was so frustrated I made a noise I didn't recognize as my own. It sounded like mouse who was perplexed by a crossword puzzle, but to me it seemed loud in my tiny kitchen.

"For your information, my no-no places have taken a trip to Brazil and they brought my legs along too! Now, please leave."

I pointed towards the door.

He held up his hands with a chuckle. "Okay, whatever you say, Ada. I'll come back around tonight after your _date_."

He left the door slightly ajar when he left. I poked my head out to make sure he was really gone, and saw his car peeling out. In a whirl, I closed the door behind me and put the chain across the top. I let a smile slip across my face in the wake of my mini triumph. The weight of my quarter was heavy in my pocket.

Susan nodded approvingly and reminded me to have the fucking locks changed.

 **-** **HOE-**

"Welcome to Hotel One-Eighty. Checking in?"

"Yep. We sure are." The man shifted on his feet as the baby on his shoulder spit up on him. Immediately, I passed him a tissue with one hand, while I began to look for his reservation.

"May I have your last name please?"

It was a standard script, relayed with a superior smile and high energy level. Even if I was depressed, sick or otherwise mentally indisposed, from the second I walked in the ornate glass doors, I was on.

"Derek."

"And the first name?"

His annoyance creeped into his eyes. "That _is_ my first name."

 _Perhaps you should answer the question I asked, instead of the one you heard in your head. Turn up your damn Miracle Ear or learn to pay attention._

"I apologize. I actually need your last name," I responded with a wider smile.

I could have possibly looked up his reservation by this first name, but it was quicker to look it up by last. Getting him and his family into the room was more prudent than keeping them in line any longer than necessary. Especially since the small child pulling on his leg was looking a little off and whining about his "tum-tum."

"Potter."

"I'm sorry. I don't seem to have anyone under that name."

"What? What do you mean? Did _you_ lose our reservation?" He accused hotly and then called to his wife. "Come take the baby so I can deal with _this_."

And that's where I became a "this" instead a human being. It was okay to be rude and confrontational, because I had somehow wronged him.

 _He should be turned into mince meat by way of a rusty meat cleaver. Please stop polluting the gene pool and passing on your infinite fucking patience to the next generation of brutish morons._

It was time to pull out the empathy mask.

"Sir, could the reservation possibly be under another name?"

He glared at me. "I think I know my own name!"

 _King Asshole of Assholeville. Population: One loud-mouthed asshole._ _Here's your crown of hairy sphincters, you rectally defunct blowhard._

"Of course," I offered. "Let me look again."

I knew his name wasn't in our system. The usual scenario was that they booked at another hotel or a different name was used. It was never their fault and always our mistake. The customer is always right, and I was not worth the dirt they brought in on their shoes.

"I apologize. I still don't have it," I offered. "May I have your confirmation number, please?"

"Lauren! Where is the confirmation number? Did you even get one?"

The poor woman shook her head as she patted the baby's back gently. "I don't know where it is."

"Dammit. This is ridiculous."

I'd had enough of his child-like tantrum, but I was only listening to every third word as I was too preoccupied with actually fixing his problem.

"Lauren Tanner?"

The man's tired wife glanced up at me. "Yes, that's me."

I smiled widely.

"It looks like the reservation was under your name, Ma'am. The crib you requested is already in your room, the roll away will be up momentarily and the requested juices are in your refrigerator. Your massage is booked for tomorrow at noon. And Mr. Potter's tee time is set for three p.m." I paused for a minute while the realization sunk in for them that it was not an apocalyptic sized problem.

If the worse thing that ever happens to you is a lost hotel reservation, you should be so blessed.

 _It would have a first-world-problem hashtag and some silly emoticon._

 _Learning perspective isn't just for art majors._

 _Turn that into a meme with a creepy stick figure and watch how fast it spreads._

"May I have your ID and a credit card please, so we can get you checked in?"

The King of Assholes stared at me, mouth gaping as his wife handed him the baby.

"I guess I made it under my name." She flashed me a guilty smile, and glanced at her husband.

"It happens all the time."

The ill looking toddler whined again about his tummy, right before he threw up on the floor in front of my desk.

At least it wasn't on me that time.

 **-HOE-**

Being as I ran late, my lunch consisted of cheap burger and fries from a bag. I was choking down the remaining offensive pseudo food in the break room when my boss swung the door wide. James wasn't entirely intimidating, with his short stature and troll like features, but his wicked temper wasn't something I dared mess with. It was bad enough he leered at me constantly and made it apparent any career advancement was only possible by way of riding his junk. I was beginning to think I was the only one who wasn't screwing him in order to get access to petty cash and the privilege to drive his Audi.

 _Fuck that. I got passed over for the manager spot twice because the higher-ups are sexist douche nozzles. Go play a two hand tackle with your trouser snake and shove your bullshit status symbol up your too tight ass_.

My co-worker, Jessica, had already driven it to get the jizz stains removed from her uniform. She was under the impression their trysts were going unnoticed. The security company would beg to differ if they ever examined the tapes.

"Jesus! I've been looking for you. What the hell are you doing in here?"

"I was...um...taking lunch." My answer was hardly audible.

He looked perplexed and then irate.

"Who the fuck told you to do that?"

I stuttered twice before I answered, his aggressiveness was unanticipated. "It's...two."

When he didn't immediately answer, I swallowed and my eyes darted downward.

"I take a lunch at two. Angela at three...otherwise..."

He exhaled loudly.

"You're explaining this to me like a give two Canadian Pesos!"

 _There's that twelve credits of community college paying off, Deputy dipshit._

"We have a VIP coming in any minute and I need your ass at that desk."

I wiped my mouth and nodded. "Well, Angela is..."

"Angela is not competent enough for a VIP." He motioned towards the door. "I need your ass at _your_ desk doing _your_ job."

His argument was completely meritless. Angela had been there a year and was more than capable. It really wasn't worth arguing with him though, he was just a cog in the wheel of a job I used to pay my bills. I wouldn't know what to say in my defense anyway. To my shock and unsettled stomach, he grabbed my arm before I could exit the door entirely.

"Unless you'd like to be bent over it?" He was looking at me with an evil little smirk that made my no-no places riot with disgust. "Then Angela is more than qualified."

If I wasn't nauseated from the nasty cardboard, imitation food, I would have been then. I could have used his advances to my advantage and proved Jake wrong, but boinking your boss, especially one as Elephant Man ugly as him, would not keep my smart hat on.

"I...I..." Susan was imploring me to say anything. "I'm going out there."

His clammy grip tightened.

"You sure, Bella? There's so much that needs to get done in here."

I took a deep breath and channeled my quarter.

"No. There's security cameras in here." My tone was quiet, but strong. I removed my arm felt ridiculously empowered. "And in the parking garage...and watching the desk. You might want to take that under advisement and I'll forget what you just said."

I nodded and nearly swallowed my tongue before leaving him there. I wandered a few dazed steps, then awkwardly began dancing the rest of the way down the hall. I was flash dancing on sunshine and fireworks by the time I reach the desk. Being as the lobby was empty and I was completely alone, I started singing along to the triumphant tune that was already playing in my head.

"You just gotta ignite the light and let it shine."

Angela was still no where to be seen, so with the extra spring of happiness tucked into the bottom of my shoes, I continued.

"Just own the night like the Fourth of July."

My water bottle was soon in hand and acted as a microphone as I channeled my love of glee club and impromptu musical numbers.

" 'Cause baby you're a firework! Come on show 'em what you're worth!"

I let myself go a little more than I should have given the circumstances. Singing some Katy Perry did not scream professionalism, but I couldn't resist a few more lines given my astonishing ability to stand my ground. It wasn't until I sang the last line of the chorus, that I heard clapping from behind me. I could feel the cringe of my face, and the sinking of my stomach. I quickly resolved to apologize and launch into the fastest check-in possible, but any plan in my brain was wiped clean by the Hot Tottie standing in front of me. He was still smiling, which was good, because the last thing I would see before I died of embarrassment would be the ping from his "day dreams are made of this" smile.

"Hell..." I cleared my throat and tried again.

 _Bloody perfect beautiful hell. Hey, Handsome. There is some sexy on your mouth._

 _Let me have a taste._

"Hello. Welcome to Hotel One-Eighty. Check...Checking in? "

"I am. Provided the floor show is over?" His smile tweaked a little with a chuckle and slid the handle of his bag down.

"I...Yes. Of course. I apologize, completely irregular. Mr...?" I tried to focus on anything else about him that would turn off the hot button to the no-no parts.

 _I bet his toes are disgusting. Huge gross toenails_.

 _They're green, ingrown and twenty feet long_.

 _His eyes are definitely green a_ nd _I can think of something else that's probably long_.

My eyes fused to my computer screen. I only hoped I wouldn't spontaneously combust from the heat of the embarrassment funneling to my cheeks.

"Cullen."

"Alright, Mr. Cullen. If I could just have your ID and your credit card I can get you up..." I stuttered on the innuendo and hoped he was deaf to my mumbling. "to your room."

"Mr. Cullen? Wow. I had a elementary school teacher that used to call me that. Usually when I was bad."

 _Tell me all the ways you were a bad, bad boy_.

I nodded with a polite smile, acknowledging him, but did not look at him. I pretended he'd said "the traffic was horrible," or something equally banal.

"That a...fact?"

Then I noticed in the notes of the reservation. The VIP I was corralled to shorten my lunch for was a gorgeous as he was important and had heard my alley cat in heat vocal skills. I dared a glance, hoping I could salvage something in the remaining time by invoking some professionalism. He was staring at me, his jade eyes narrowed.

"That's an absolute fact,' he looked at my name tag. "Bella."

 _Was he flirting with me?_

 _Can you say my name again? Slower_.

I couldn't tell if he was angered, but the enigmatic grin on his face made me feel violated in all the right ways. I'd already seen his first name was Edward, he lived in California and he preferred orange juice over cranberry.

"Oh." I swallowed and looked down again, clacking away on the keyboard unsure of what to say, but knew my girl parts relished in the thought. My quarter spawned a nickel next to it. Then the idea of trying to prove Jake wrong crossed my mind.

 _Go get it, Bae. Get it and wipe that little fucker's nose all up in it_.

"Is this a good tour?" he picked out one of the brochures on the counter and held it up. It was bus tour of downtown. I'd been on it once in order to get to know the tourist spaces, but it was boring and the guide's speech was monotoned and riddled with puns. My lip curled just a little as a knee jerk reaction and before I could smooth it over, he spoke again.

"That good, huh?"

I shrugged as I tried to devise a way to flirt back, but I was only somewhat able to look him in the eye.

"It's not bad. It's just," I shuffled through the pamphlets. "This one. " I held up the one in the back. "Is much better. The bus is newer, the spots are where locals go, not necessarily tourist traps. Plus, the last stop is this amazing bakery. They have the best macarons in the city."

The last part wasn't in the brochure it was based on personal preference. I loved that shop and all its deliciousness. I'd never mentioned that to another guest before, the information just popped out on its own accord.

He was smiling. "That'd a fact?"

I giggled at him repeating my words.

"Yeah, they're the best."

I awkwardly unwound a small piece of my hair and twirled it, but it ended up getting caught on my finger and I had to yank it out. I got nervous at my lame attempt at flirting and reverted to professional mode.

"Should I book that for you? Tours are every hour on the hour starting at nine am. Unless you have additional guests, in which case, I could book multiple tickets?"

"Depends, are you planning on joining me, Bella?"

He was grinning at me expectantly. I struggled for words, for decorum and something intelligently flirty to say back, but all I had was an painful laugh and a sigh to respond with.

 _Please let me think of something._

 _Anything_.

"I...don't think what would be very professional."

 _Oh for the love of Jesus' Jew nutsack! Are you trying to get laid or not?!_

His smile lessened. "You're right. It wouldn't."

 _Shit! You scared him away! Be cool._

 _We can fix this_.

 _We have boobs_.

I cleared my throat and not so awkwardly pushed my girls a little closer together.

"We have you in suite on the fifth floor. The view is impeccable."

Which was code for, 'the room was subpar, but we're hoping you won't notice with the view.'

"Is it a nice room?"

Apparently he'd read the code book. He bit his lip and licked it over, before his eyes darted up from my chest when I noticed him staring. I could almost feel a second nickel forming in my pocket.

 _No guts no glory!_

 _And more importantly, no nookie._

My sudden overtness was scary, and I chickened out at the last minute so it came out like more of a whisper.

"It'd be nicer with me in it."

 _She shoots and she scores_!

 _LeBron can't touch this_.

I handed him keys with a shy smile and his eyes widened.

"That looks good on you."

"What does?"

"The smile."

The grin on my face was entering clown territory and I was sure the red in my cheeks was adding to the circus affect. Regardless, I managed to reply in more of bedroom voice than I knew I had.

"Jeff will have your bags to your room shortly. Please let us know if there's _anything_ we can do to make your stay more pleasant."

"I just might take you ..." he leaned on the desk towards me and took the breath from my lungs when he ventured to touch my cheek. I fell forward a little when he removed his hand and leaned back. "up on that."

His eyes undressed me and then he turned away and followed the hallway down to the elevator. I watched every beautiful step and my no-no places mopped up from a brush fire.

I didn't see him again before the end of the day. Pathetically, I tried to wait around the lobby for a few hours in hopes he was busy. It beat the hell out of hurrying home only to have Jake arrive and add insult to my wounded ego. Hot Tottie was staying over the weekend, but I wasn't working. After he left, I'd assuredly be long forgotten. With my limited knowledge and experience, I could only assume I'd been blown off. I must've been misreading what he was doing.

 _Why on earth would he be flirting with me?_

Jake was right. I couldn't get anybody to do me.

As I went to pack up and leave, I vowed just to keep my head down, my lips shut and only speak when I absolutely had to for as long as possible.

I always ended up parking several blocks away, since employees only had a few spaces and higher-ups got priority. The walk was nice, but it made me nervous since I was walking in the dark, alone. The neighborhood wasn't typically bad, but you could never be too careful. I always walked through there like I had a screw loose and as quickly as possible in order to lessen my anxiety about the certain murderer that was lurking.

My steps sped, as I swore I heard footsteps behind me. They began to match time with mine. I didn't dare look back and I was almost to my car, when a hand clamped down on my shoulder. I shrieked loudly and swung wildly with my eyes closed. The outright fear pulsed through me and completely lowered whatever verbal barrier I kept meticulously in place.

"Word to the wise, Shit Brick! I'm a hermaphrodite and the girl part is on the rag! So just back the fuck off!"

"Whoa! Wow. Okay!" The voice sounded shockingly familiar. "That's making what you implied a few hours ago sound a little less appealing, but..."

Hot Tottie was standing there in suit, with a coat thrown over his arm. I whimpered slightly as the adrenaline sped or lessoned, I couldn't be sure. In attempt not to curl into the fetal position, I kept talking.

"I'm all woman. I swear. Albeit an incredibly mortified woman. So I'll save you the trouble, walk the opposite direction and hope you can find it in your heart not to tell my boss how shamelessly I threw myself at you earlier."

His laugh echoed off the silent street.

"That was throwing yourself at me?"

"What?"

"The cleavage push and the hair twirl? The 'room would be nicer with me in it' comment?You weren't exactly-"

"What?!" I snipped, unfamiliar with the voice I was speaking with, as it was above a cat's meow. "I wasn't exactly, what? Appealing? Yes, I know. You made that abundantly clear."

His eyes narrowed. "Pulling out your A-game."

I shook my head with a huff, confused and a little insulted.

"Now if it were me, you wouldn't have a question in your mind."

He stepped forward and was instantly entirely too close for comfort, his eyes wandered carefully around my face.

"A doubt in your head.''

He ran two fingers from my temple down and over the line of my jaw. My sharp inhale was only silenced by the thumping of my heartbeat.

"You would know what I wanted."

He took to staring at my lips. With only a glance and a nod of approval, his lips were on mine. They moved against them just long enough to make me moan. I inadvertently hummed when he pulled away.

"Meet me in my room in twenty minutes." He flicked one of his keys up and then slipped it in my pocket. "Let yourself in and leave the fucking clip out of your hair," he demanded as my hair came down and the clip was thrown into the street.

He smirked at my inability to speak, and elaborated while running his thumb over my lip.

"I like something to grab onto while I'm making you scream."

He winked, turned on his foot and stalked back towards the hotel.

 _Holy shit! C_ _heese_ _and_ _crackers!_

What the hell had I gotten myself into? I couldn't go up to some stranger's room. Not only could I risk my job, but I had about as much seduction skill as a sex-ed video.

 _What part of a hot man wants to touch you in no-no places did you not get?_

I began walking towards my car. It was enough for me to know that someone like him wanted me.

I started singing _Someone Like You_.

 _Where? And will it be before Jake climbs off you or after that asshat gets a beer?_

I frowned and listened to the sound of my racing pulse. I was no longer focused on the scary, dim street, but was wrestling with what I was going to do. I walked back towards the hotel with conviction for a few steps, only to walk towards my car a few seconds later. On my third time towards the hotel, I twisted my ankle a little by tripping over a raised part of broken sidewalk. I limped away again, feeling the weight of the key in my pocket, and and tried to piece together how that happened. I yelled something dirty and completely inappropriate at him. He caused me to do something I'd never been able to do before.

 _It was amazing._

 _I felt amazing_.

He made me feel amazing.

Another quarter rapidly formed in my pocket next to his key. I clapped and jumped in place, to the chagrin of my ankle and darted off towards the hotel. Not having to come back to Jake's "I told you so" was only a small part of my excitement. The rest was being supplied by the prospect of destroying the mold I'd been splintering all day.

I glanced at my watch and grimaced at time.

 _I was running late_.


End file.
